


Away with the Mist

by ImaShayne



Series: Not sure what the series is called yet but I guess I'll figure it out... eventually [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Date Night, Fae & Fairies, Fairies, Fairy Tale Elements, Fantasy, Fantasy AU, Fluff, Klance fantasy/future, M/M, Magic, TeamKLfantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:41:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23484733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaShayne/pseuds/ImaShayne
Summary: Lance is sneaking out to meet up with his new boyfriend for a date. They can't see each other often so he truly cherishes every moment spent together. He wonders at what Keith might have in store for him, and it's a surprise worth waiting for. But as always all good things come too an end, and the boy will just have to wait for the next opportunity to see his beloved.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Not sure what the series is called yet but I guess I'll figure it out... eventually [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1689589
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23
Collections: Klance: Fantasy | Future





	Away with the Mist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I commissioned my friend @danaeldowney and they drew out the prettiest kiss scene for this fic!

In the late evening, as all other things began to quiet, with even the house itself settling, pipes groaning as the hot air kicked on audibly in the basement and stairs creaking, Lance stepped down, one by one, carefully as he could to not disturb the restful tranquility. The only other sound the steady rhythmic voice of his abuela telling her bedtime stories to his niece and nephew. At first the exact words were distant and vague, eluding the boy, but as he neared the bottom of the case the tale became clearer. Lance paused on the last few steps, crossing his arms and leaning against the railing, head tilted to the side. No one noticed him as he listened, a warm smile upon his sepia features. He knew this would make him late for his date, but he didn’t mind. Keith could wait.

Light from the kitchen, where the clanking of dishes and low hum of chatter sounded, washed out into the darkened living room. Otherwise there was no other illumination at all as abuelita shared her well known fable. Aged voice filling words Lance had memorized from long ago when these adventures had sung him to sleep.

“—The wings of la Lechuza blot out the the stars and the moon. When you hear her call in the night do not look behind you, and don’t run. Both catch the witch’s attention and will seal your fate. If you make these mistakes—”

“—she’ll swoop down on silent wings, spiriting you away to never be seen or heard from again!” Lance vaulted over the banister, crashing down right behind Nadia, who’s shrill scream rang through the house but didn’t drown out the rest of his words, which he growled out in an ominous air as he reached for Sylvio, who’s mouth was as agape as his sister’s, though no sound came out. He scrambled back on his butt, almost tripping over his own flailing limbs. “No one knows what happens to those she takes, their fates remain a mystery. But to this day the forlorn cry of an owl remains an ill omen—”

“—La Lechuza stalks nights such as these,” Abuela made the sign of the evil eye at Lance, obviously not impressed with her story being interrupted by his trickery; stealing the apex with his theatrics. “Where the fog creeps up from the ocea—”

“Grandma we don’t live by the ocean anymore!” Nadia giggled. The terror of the myth fading as more laugher filled the room, this time from Luis and his wife, who’d been summoned from their chores by their daughter’s impressive screech.

“Oh yes—” The old woman released a long suffering sigh, looking out the nearby window. In the eventide mist pressed heavily against the glass, as if the ghostly tendrils were seeking entrance. “The fog here comes down from the mountain doesn’t it, where the trees try to trick you…”

“—It’s time for bed my loves!” Mama bustled into the room, looking more ready for sleep than anyone else. Instantly complaints rose from the two young ones.

“What? No fair! Why does he get to stay up late?” Sylvio demanded, jabbing his finger into Lance’s side, affronted.

“Cuz I’m older!” Lance ruffled the two little ones’ hair. “I’m off guys.”

“And where do you think you’re going?” Papa stepped into the room, drying his hands off on his shirt.

With a huff the boy replied, “I told you already, heading over to Hunk’s for a sleepover!”

Papa opened his mouth, but before he could say anything Abuela was speaking, “Be careful on your way! Nights like this are always mischievous.”

“Si si Abuelita!” Lance saw how his parents shared an eye roll at his grandma’s words. The boy simply shook his head, as he reached for the door handle, pausing for only a brief moment, glancing over the mantle at the entryway, where a large mirror hung. He straightened out his bangs, casting a critical eye down his form. Not to toot his own horn, but he looked pretty good. A deep indigo turtleneck hugged his slim frame and would keep any chill away. A soft flush kissed his cheeks for a brief moment before he turned, walking out into the night.

“Have a good time!” The words were muted in the opaque fog as soon as his mom spoke them. It was like walking into a wall of clouds. Lance could feel the cool kiss of the vapor as he moved through its embrace. He couldn’t see too far ahead in the fog, perhaps to about the end of the street, but nothing beyond.

Lance remembered how fog off the ocean had been in his old home. How the heat made the water droplets in the air drag heavily, like many hands, as if everything was weighted. Balm there abundant with the aroma of the sea; salt in the air, a metallic, bitter edge and on some days the tang of scales, when fishermen headed out beyond the waves. There had been an earthy undertone of the sun baked sand. Distant sound of water meeting with the beach beyond the veil of mists. It was so hard to breathe in all of that.

But here in the mountain’s brume held a different spirit. It was always cool, the droplets setting in so slowly that much of the time it was hard to notice the cold until too late. No matter the season whenever it came down it always smelled of rain, or green and the hinted undertones of sweet decay and growing mosses. It deadened all sounds save for a howling, almost like the wind, despite its ever absence.

Though night had long since fallen Lance felt as if he were walking through a silvered twilight. The way the light of the full moon and stars refracted through the beads. Atmosphere around him took on a molten amber glow as he passed beneath streetlamps. The glare didn’t help to illuminate the roads though, in fact the coverage had grown thicker still. Lance could no longer see his hand before his face. It was as if he were all alone in the world as he walked. It didn’t matter much though; his sure steps knew the path they needed to take by heart after all. Signs and mail boxes appeared to his right, only to disappear once more in the gray shroud.

Lance didn’t turn down Hunk’s street. Instead he took the left handed path, turning swiftly from the evenly paved slabs of concrete and the hidden, well manicured lawns. From the houses who’s orange bulbs shone out in perfectly aligned rectangles and scattered through the gloom, right to where the sidewalk ended. The dirt road, soft beneath his steps, began to twist and incline, until soon enough the silhouettes that rose suddenly around him were those of trees and bushes. Until he’d reached the forested foothills at the base of the mountain. No sound besides the crunch of the soil beneath his heels reached him, and even that was muted. The stout juniper hedges with their splashes of deep indigo amongst the green, the tall and slim pines, shorter spruces with the more vibrant emeralds, the mountain ashes, rowan berries giving the gray of the world around him a burst of crimson. More evergreens crowded around him. It was almost as if he were walking through a watercolor painting. All these faded swiftly back into the argent. Eyes strained directly ahead of him, knowing exactly what it was he sought out, counting his steps until _there,_ creating a horizon from the monotonous chrome all around him was what appeared to be a line of flames, growing more defined as he neared it, forming into a grove of birch trees, their leaves fully shifted in the season. Even in this haze their autumnal hues stood out, against the ashen surroundings like a beacon. Their trunks however blended in more fully, with their white bark and gnarled knots of pitch and ochre. Hard to spot until he was right amongst them, enclosed completely. As he halted his steps the leaves fell gently around him with nary a whisper, as if it were raining embers.

The eyes of the wood had always reminded Lance of real eyes and his abuela had once upon a time terrorized him with stories of how each one was the mark of a lost soul, lead astray by the fairy lights until they’d become disoriented and confused in the mists, toppling from the clifftops or swept away in the rushing, storm gorged waters of the river. Because of these tales Lance had always felt as if he was being watched within the forest.

Only now he knew the truth, he was. The back of his neck tingled as Lance hiked on, he could only put up with this sensation for so long though and it was only a few steps more before he forewent all semblance of patience, excitement getting the better of him.

“Ya know it’s not like I have all night!” He called out, his voice swallowed by the fog immediately. Lance might have stayed miffed if not for the laughter that echoed back at him. Sound was impossible to pinpoint. He turned in place, heart rate speeding up as he scanned the grove. Nothing moved in the vast slate, the slim contours of birches the only thing that circled him.

His own laughter joined with Keith’s as he was suddenly lifted from the ground. The other’s strong arms circling his waist from behind. The embrace was short lived and Lance spun as soon as his feet were back on the ground.

“Found ya!” He stated triumphantly. Keith looked vexed by the statement, his amethyst eyes flashing.

“Found me? I _caught you_. How does that count as you ‘finding me’?

Lance leaned his arms atop Keith’s shoulders, pushing himself up on his toes to make himself taller, since they stood the same height. His fingers twirled in the long strands of hair at the base of Keith’s neck, where the pitch locks gradated into a rich scarlet.

“Oh mullet, I knew you were there the whole ti—”

“Oh did you?” Butterflies were set alight in Lance’s stomach, for the other’s arms had snaked around his torso, lifting Lance from the ground once more and spinning him in place. Laughter caught in his throat as the dusted wings turned sharp on his insides. Through his tightened grip he had on Keith’s shoulders Lance felt the vibration of Keith’s wings; a blur of iridescent glimmers in the air, sending a soft almost plum glow abound them, the same color of his eyes. Lance’s hair shifted endlessly within this gentle wind. Neither of them were touching the ground any longer.

“H-hey! Put me do—” Lips that tasted of sour apples pressed against his own for just long enough for both feet to be placed firmly upon the uneven earth again. Where they belonged.

“I know, I know—” Keith chuckled, releasing the kiss, but pulling back no further, so that their breath still mingled. “You’re _afraid_ of of heights.” The tone was clearly teasing but Lance still rose to it.

“Am not! It’s just—” Lance searched for the right word, but lamely, landed on the wrong one. “Weird.”

  
  
Keith only snorted, rolling his eyes. The sound infection, as it brought a smile to Lance’s face as well. “You human’s are all the same—”

Lance bristled, bringing his hand up to his heart. “You wound me!”

The other stepped back and away from him, arms crossing. Lance did the same, narrowing his eyes and trying not too admire his not quite human boyfriend. At first glance he really could be mistaken for one. It wasn’t until you were close that you noticed the angle of his features, the long pointed ears, and that the shimmer behind him was not some sort of chiffon cloak to go with the costumed way that he dressed-as if stepping out from a renaissance fair with his crimson doublet, amethyst accents almost glowing in the gloom, and loose flowing sleeves-but _wings_ , not unlike those of a dragon fly when at rest.

Keith still hadn’t told Lance _what_ he was exactly, and the boy didn’t pry. He knew enough lore thanks to his nana not to ask… that he might not like the answer.

Lance simply knew that he was happy. Like, undeniably, profoundly happy. Everyone had noticed this change. Hunk and Pidge, every member of his large and extensive family. Commenting on his demeanor to each other, and encouraging him at every turn.

“You’re right Lance, you do have a certain special something about you.”

The faux expression of hurt melted away from his features. “Don’t think sweet talking me’ll getcha out of trouble! But… go ahead and tell me what’s so special about me?”

“You’ve got me!” Keith snickered and dodged away from the other's lunge, incredulity fueling Lance as he began to give chase.

“Wait until I get my hands on you pretty boy!” Lance shouted as the mists seemed to swallow Keith back up. There would be a glimmer of that purple glow here, or the shadow of movement there, and Lance followed, sprinting after, laughter coming to him in gasped breaths soon enough as he pursued with careless abandon, growing giddier with each almost there capture.

Lance didn’t see the cliff, only knew as the ground fell out from beneath him.


End file.
